Fate's Exchange (Twisted Fate, Book 1)

Chapter Three

Finding consciousness was like waking from a nightmare without the benefit of daylight, though I knew it wasn't a dream because my body felt like it was on fire. Everything hurt. I bit my lip and tried to determine where I was, though it was hard to see. Dusk filled my vision. All around, the wet, moldy leaves bunched on the ground, casting shadows to taunt me like jagged-edged boulders piled to be hurled my way. There was no real way to tell what time it was, though the sunset suggested at least seven. Not yet summer, it was dark by eight.

My parents were going to be pissed. Had Tina called yet? If my phone wasn't crushed within my bag, it wouldn't matter anyway—it was still on silent because I hadn't taken it out when I left, and I didn't even know if my bag had made it into the woods with me. Maybe someone would see it laying in the field and wonder if something was wrong? Maybe my parents would intuitively know I was gone against my will and come looking for me... I never went off on my own, not without my phone, and they'd made sure I knew to be home before dark since before I was old enough to tell time. Even without the events playing out on the news during the past week, it had been ingrained during my whole childhood. "Bad things happened at night," they'd always said.

Through eyes swollen to slits, I looked down, finally feeling like I was willing to try to move despite the flaming pain throughout my entire body. But I couldn't shift my body to get a better look around me. The bunch of leaves surrounding the trunk's base flattened beneath me to rise at my sides like I was sitting in a bean bag chair. I felt that my arms, already like soft noodles hardened by exposure, were tied behind my back around a tree. My shoulder blades stretched until they burned, the trunk too large for my small frame.

I forced my eyes wider. Feeling like it was the only part of my body that hadn't been broken, I was able to move my neck just enough to look around. Forgotten and alone, the forest was damp with leaves scattering the ground. Free from litter but reeking of snow mold, the bitterness that lingered on my tongue was strong enough to induce headaches, and my head swam. The only break from the trees my limited vision registered was four of the Elixir students sitting in a misshapen circle. They passed a pipe that steamed to fill the air while sharing a bottle filled with clear liquid. Judging by their sourdough faces, it wasn't water. As soon as their actions registered, another, more pressing question caused me to stiffen with fear of the unknown. Where was the fifth? The boy who taunted with such brutal force?

"Have you ever shot a deer?"

I recoiled from the sound as the missing boy spoke from my right. The bark of the tree bit into the raw wounds on my back, and I held my agony back with a wince, squeezing my eyes shut as the breath whooshed from my lungs. Slowly, I opened them again, not wanting to let him see my pain and feel victory in it. My gaze darted from the group and then finally, to the boy.

I'm trapped.

"You should try it," he continued from his perch on a boulder a few feet away, his elbows resting on his knees. Without looking up from the stake he was carving with a silver pocketknife decorated with black skulls, he said, "Make sure you watch their eyes once they're in your sights. Wait until they know what's coming. You'll see them go from docile to frightened—"he snapped his fingers, and my hands twitched, the ties holding my arms back pinching the skin at my wrists"—to dead." He looked up and smiled. "It's fascinating."

I sucked in a breath. "You're sick."

He lunged forward and squeezed my cheeks until my lips pursed, popping as they were forced to open. His fist was like an oversized clamp digging into my bruised skin. Glaring at him, determined not to show fear, I could see his eyes were glazed and crazy, bloodshot and erratic. Releasing me, he smiled, and I breathed a deep sigh of relief.